


King of Carrot Flowers

by hugh_jassmann



Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 17:07:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13885293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hugh_jassmann/pseuds/hugh_jassmann
Summary: Psy and Cagney do some gardening





	King of Carrot Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> this is part of an art trade with a friend of mine on tumblr, http://mythril-warheads.tumblr.com !

“Stop!” 

Psycarrot flinched back when Cagney quickly wrapped his bony hands around a small patch of thistle. Psycarrot sighed and rubbed at his forehead, attempting to stave off his approaching headache. It had been the same all day, with Cagney hunching protectively over the weeds in the garden and not letting any of the three vegetables yank them out. Psy reminded himself to never invite Cagney over to garden again. 

“Cags… I gotta pull that thing out, I’m sorry.” He said, his voice clearly indicating that he wasn’t at all sorry. He tried to slot his slender hand in between Cagney’s guarding fingers, but Cagney shut them like a cage around the plant in the ground. Psy could feel his forehead droop with exasperation. 

“Cagney, for pete’s sake!” Psy threw his arms up, tossing his trowel behind him where it stuck firmly into the dirt next to Weepy, greatly frightening the onion. Moetato grunted in annoyance as he comforted the crying bulb and shouted across the garden,

“Psy, I know you wanna spend some time with yer boyfriend but we gotta get to weedin’!” 

He buried himself underground when Psy shot him a death glare, pulling Weepy under with him. Psycarrot groaned. He knew his friend was protective over plants, but he didn’t know just how disruptive it would be. 

“Don’t kill ‘em…” Cagney spoke, slowly uncovering the thistle. “They gotta eat too, y’know.”

Psy had to smile. It would be just like a flower to say that. Just like Cagney. “Yeah well…” Psy placed his hand on Cagney’s. “So do we. And we can’t grow crops with this thistle and those dandelions takin’ all the nutrients.” 

Cagney huffed angrily. He hated when Psycarrot was right. 

“I’ll just take care of ‘em myself, then.” He said confidently and straightened up tall, then gently scooping up the thistle. “I’ll take it back to my garden an’ let it grow. I’ll even let you come see it.” He teased. Psy rolled his eyes.

“Alright then. I guess that’s a form of weeding.” He went over to grab his discarded trowel. “Do that, then. Anything that doesn’t look like food is yours.” 

Compromise. Though it didn’t mean that Psy didn’t have to chase Moe away with a rake whenever he tried to yank a weed out of the ground before Cagney could get to it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Psycarrot sat under the big tree in Cagney’s garden, watching the flower as he replanted the weeds he so carefully dug up earlier. He had a neat little patch of thistle which he surrounded with dandelions and buttercups, carefully poking small holes in the dirt and dropping in the tiny yellow flowers. The surrounding clearing was dotted with small white and purple clovers and Cagney proudly flicked a small bug off of the bright pink thistle flower. 

“Careful, Cags. Thistle spreads.” Psy said, watching his friend lovingly prune and position the thorny plant. Cagney took a step back and admired his patch of weeds, before slinking back to sit with Psy under the tree. 

“I know, I made sure t’ give it space.” 

The pair sighed as they gazed over Cagney’s vast and well-kept garden. Even the invasive weeds looked happy and healthy, clearly flourishing under Cagney’s care and watchful eye. They figured this was a healthy compromise, every so often Cagney would come over and uproot some less-than-desirable plants and take them home with him. That kept everybody happy, though Moe still grumbled that they should just kill the buggers instead. 

Cagney even mentioned in passing that the fear of being plucked is one of the worst fears a plant can have. Psy couldn’t relate, carrots were made to be plucked. He noticed how Cagney spoke to the weeds, though he tried to hide it. He treated them like pets, or perhaps small children. Cagney was always protective over plants. They didn’t even realize how long they’d been sitting and quietly admiring the garden until the orange light of the setting sun cast a sickly color on the bright pink thistle. 

“Well…” Psy said, breaking the comfortable silence. “It’s gettin’ late, I should head back to help with the haul.” He wrestled himself out from under Cagney, the fact that he hadn’t even noticed how close they’d got very evident of his mind slipping, he thought. “I’ll come back sometime tomorrow?” He asked once he was free of Cagney’s embrace. The flower yawned like a lion and nodded, not wanting to let go as Psy slid his small orange hand out of Cagney’s own sharp green one. 

He gave a little sleepy wave to Psy as he left, and admired the way the setting sun made his colors pop and shine, seemingly even more orange than ever before. It almost hurt Cagney’s eyes to look at. But, if he let himself get sappy, Psy really was as bright as the sun.


End file.
